


Flat Share 13

by Unicornkatt



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Comedy, F/M, Female Harry Potter, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Modern Era, Multi, Non canon compliant, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-29
Updated: 2019-04-02
Packaged: 2019-12-26 05:21:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18276611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unicornkatt/pseuds/Unicornkatt
Summary: Harry and Ron, best friends from school, share a flat in inner London.It's not fancy, it's not modern but between the two of them it's what they can afford and its home.Que everyday dramas, crushes and one Tom Marvollo Riddle and Ron just wishes for when life was simple. If not simple then the flowerpot drama of 2011, between them and flat 14, to be resolved at the least.





	1. Kitchen Break In

Tuesdays to Ron have always been a bit of an enigma of a day. Mondays, it's a universal nature to hate and Wednesday is that mid-week slump where you're not quite inching towards the weekend but still not free of the clutches of the beginning.

No, if Ron was going to try and describe a Tuesday it would be that split second you wake up before your alarm and that slight feeling of delight at the prospect of snoozing for a while longer. Only for the alarm to go off mere moments later.

Yes Tuesdays, where his day is split between fielding calls from various representatives for the chemical company he works for whilst juggling the copious amounts of debts that's he's meant to be chasing the clientele for. The only thing breaking it up being a simple packed lunch, accompanied by a happy note and doodle from his best friend that she always slips inside.

Today's message simply reading 'If sunshine was a feeling then the whole world should glow with you in it' accompanied by a slightly worrying drawing of stick men apparently shining out their heads.

Its nonsense but the sentiment always brightens his day. He has however started to question where she gets all her material from, Harry says it's all from the heart. Ron's checked the flat 3 times and not found a book yet so unfortunately he can't call Bull to that yet.

Yet.

He still has yet to check the cupboard hidden above their boiler.

So Tuesdays have a bit of a standard routine for Ron. Finish work, get the tube back to his flat (try and avoid staring at the brunette beauty that always seems to take the same tube as him), scope the corridor of his flat building to avoid running in to anyone at flat 14 and if clear slump through the door.

If said corridor however does appear to house a member of flat 14 then he becomes engaged in a complex game of stairs and bannisters. Last time ended with him being stuck up on the roof until Harry got home from work to let him back in.

Seriously they either needed to move or confront the issue.

 

A fact he issued out loud as he shut the door behind him, throwing his coat amongst the array that donned the small entrance corridor. Seriously that coat rack was one ill aimed throw away from collapsing. But then it was a freebie pulled from a skip that Harry had glued back together and spray painted a vibrant lime green.

Neither of them even liked lime green for pity sake.

"Harry, seriously I can't keep scoping out the building every time I need to come or go. We either make peace or we move"

He yelled into the small living space, chucking his bag down next to one of the sofas, a faded red excuse but the softest cushions imaginable. A gift from his mother when they first started to rent the place that neither could seem to part with.

"Harry?"

The silence made him question his flatmates actually presence but then she should have been back, her class having finished hours ago. A clinking sound from their small kitchenette drawing his attention.

"Everything alright Harry, you're not usually this qui-"

There was a man in their kitchen. Ok more at the breakfast bar but still, a man in his kitchen.

A decidedly quite handsome man but still a man in his kitchen.

He must have been staring longer then he thought as a smooth drawl interrupted the various burglar/murder scenes fighting in his head

"You must be the flatmate….Ronald was it?"

The question, accompanied by an eyebrow raise he couldn't figure out if was either terrifying or mocking snapped him out his daze.

"If you are going to attack me, might I suggest a more…non spoon like weapon?"

Ok definitely mocking, no question.

Putting the large ladle down on the side, grabbed in his fright, he couldn't help the slight tick to his voice.

"Just who-" he ground out "-the hell are you and what are you doing in my flat"

The man simply waved of his question as a dull tone from his blazer breast pocket drew his attention. Pulling out what appeared to be the latest in drool worthy phone tec,

Ron grumbled as the man's face drew back into a small smile before tapping out a response to whoever had messaged him. Locking the screen and sliding it back away, the man met his gauze, deep brown eyes, almost crimson in the light meeting his narrowed ones.

"It would appear none of your concern at this time, I must be off, it would seem my companion has been detained"

Standing, the man brushed off his jacket before waltzing out the kitchen, ignoring Ron as he continued to demand who the man was and his purpose in the flat, let alone how he even got in.

"A- …the man seemed to pause before the front door, rolling the word around his mouth, -pleasure…"

The single word so full of sarcasm Ron had to resist throwing something at him as the man simply opened the front door and walked out, not even pausing to glance behind him.

"I'm calling the police" Ron's final words thrown back as the door slammed shut in front of him.

The man's huffed laugh of a response echoing back at him.

"Have fun with that"

A jaunty hand wave the last mocking piece of the puzzle.

Cursing and opening the door to follow, Ron was met with the eerie silence of an empty corridor.

Seriously they needed to move, Harrys love for their flat or not.

 

Feeling slightly stumped on what to do next after obviously a break in, he decided his best course of action was to firstly call the police and then warn Harry just in case the creep was lurking around the building still.

Stalking back to the kitchen, Ron noticed the lone glass sat out on the side.

The git even had the audacity to drink out of Harry's favourite glass.

What even were Tuesdays again?


	2. Rouge, Ruby, Just Red Please

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How hard can it be to get a simple tube of red paint.  
> Oh wait!

Why, when looking for one particular shade of colour, is it that you can buy every variant besides the one you need. She didn't need a roughish rouge, crimson caroon or a pluckish plume.

Harry wanted red. A bog standard, primary colour red.

However it would seem every local art shop was seemingly lacking in the basics, either that or painting the town red had moved from saying to trend.

The shop assistant who was vaguely trying to be helpful, if you counted offering every colour under the sun bar the one Harry actually wanted as helpful, was now going through the abundance of green they had in stock.

Annoyed at how time seemed to be ticking by faster than she had planned, Harry reached into her back jean pocket and removed the slightly scuffed, mostly held together by various paint, phone and fired off a quick message to her friend waiting. A quick apology, stating she would be there soon as it was obvious this place was a bust. She really hoped he didn't mind waiting a bit longer, she could already hear the self-ascended tone of Draco whispering in her ear about rudeness.

The assistant didn't even to seem notice she had been texting, the way she was still carrying on.

Harry didn't want a jewelled jade or a gladed green, more so how that was even linked to red in the first place.

Also why in heaven did every paint colour need to come with a just dandy alliterated name?

Feeling her patience finally wear thin as her last paint shop option, the expensive one down the bottom of the road from their flat that charged 10x the amount her normally supply shops charged, Harry held up a hand to halt the sales spiel being fired her way.

"Look, I understand that you stock a just wonderful array of paint colours, but all I need is a standard red" She managed to ground out, one hand slipping her phone back away, the incoming buzz ignored in favour of crossing her arms over her chest. Yes it was defensive position in terms of body language but at this point it was either contain her hands or launch herself across the counter and shake the women silly.

Red. Red Acrylic Paint. Was it too much to ask for.

Rhetorical Question.

It had been a long day.

"Look Miss, we have a sheer abundance of other similar colours, surely one of those might do just as well as red. We here at Constance Artistry prid- "

Kerry, Kelsie, whatever her name was, Harry was a thread past a rational mind at this point. Seemed to carry on as if ignoring her point to begin with.

 

Normally Harry had a quite placid temperament, nothing really seemed to bother her.

Unfortunate bird splatter on the way to class? Turn the shirt inside out and remember it's lucky. Friend borrow your favourite dress and ruin it? You had those golden memories already in said dress plus added bonus of friend meeting their soulmate. Can't put a price on that feeling.

Class mate ask to borrow your last tube of red acrylic whilst you're nearing the end of a core piece to your diploma work.

Never lend it to them, disown them and burn their very soul from existence.

Friggin Malfoy.

Yes the bleach blonde hair he swears is natural was a picture after but still. Harry expected grovelling for eternity. Or a box of those imported sea salt chocolates that cost more than her week's groceries that he produced on occasion. Both infact, she was allowed to be greedy in her righteous anger.

 

"I think-"

A voice cut across the small shop, silencing the endless spiel coming from, maybe Kensie? She didn't care anymore, but that smooth baritone she would recognise anywhere.

" – that you might want to quit while the going is good, otherwise we might witness a rare explosion from my friend there"

Her sigh of annoyance was cut off as a pair of keys were jangled into her line of site. A pale, elegant hand coming to rest on her shoulder.

"Your Keys my dear" Barely a whisper next to her ear, but the sound still sent an unconscious shiver running through her.

"I'll give you my dear in a minute"

Harry felt herself mutter which only seemed to elect a small smirk on her companions face as she grabbed the keys from his grasp, pocketing them as her friend turned his full, charming self to the shop assistant.

"Thank you Kelly-

Here he paused to send what had been described by many as a knee dropping smile towards the women. Did Harry say charming self, she meant overbearing and annoying.

Also of course he could read the near illegible scrawl on the women's name badge. Harry was practically blind ok!? Cut her a break.

-for all your assistance with this matter, but we will take our leave I think.

Not even giving Harry a chance to leave a parting word, the hand resting on her shoulder steered her out the shop door. The shop assistant left all but drooling over the counter.

"You just couldn't resist could you" She couldn't help bite out sarcastically, resisting his tugging as best she could.

"I don't know what you mean Harriet, please desist with the fruitless struggling"

The smarmy git didn't even pause as he removed his hand and instead linked his arm through hers. Directing her down a narrow street away from her flat and leading further into the centre of London.

"I merely saved the poor women from what was bound to be a colourful spectacle on your part, the means are irrelevant"

Taking another left, she noticed they were heading towards the tube station.

"Just where are you leading me now anyway? I've got to be at work by 7pm and my change of clothes are in my flat, you know back that way" She finished with a wave of her hand behind them.

The look she received was almost mocking as he shuffled them through the barriers and onto the underground. Snagging a rare free seat, unfortunately with a partner next to it, she settled in for the journey only to reel back as a bag was pressed into her lap.

A very familiar bag.

Narrowing her eyes she met his amused red, she refused to call that tone brown, eyes head on.

"Why were you in my room" despite her dangerous tone the man simply brushed the question aside and held up a small business card.

"Ollivanders Art Supplies, it's rather dusty but the man also seems to have exactly what you need. Likes to mutter about art choosing the artist and what not. That's our destination"

The accompanying air quotes almost made her laugh. Almost.

She wasn't giving him the satisfaction despite the gesture being so unlike him. Besides he still hadn't answered her question. Was properly unlikely to as well, if for all the time she had known him was any indication.

"After you've attained what you need, we can go to dinner but at a place of my choosing instead now and continue with our discussion on the finer points of Norse mythology to help with your current diploma project. Then I will escort you to work and our business this evening will be concluded. I don't like my time to be wasteful Harriett"

Sometimes Harry got the distinct feeling that he planned things to happen just so. She couldn't prove it. But the suspicion was strong.

"Sorry for troubling you so much this evening"

She couldn't help but feel rather guilty. Dragging him round half of London had not been the plan when they had initially arranged to meet up after so long. Marvollo having been away abroad again for several months and despite the frequent email or text correspondence it wasn't quite the same. Besides the man was a fountain of knowledge on the strangest of things and had only been too happy to offer his assistance in person upon his return to London two days prior. Harry thought he just enjoyed lecturing her in person rather than through an email, more so he could hear the sound of his own voice.

"Dearest Harriett, you are never a trouble"

If the intense gauze wasn't enough, the lower almost seductive drawled tone made the smallest of heat lick at her cheeks. She didn't know why but something about him always made her feel that tad more vulnerable. With Ron and her other male friends, she could dish out just as much as they could give and more so. But with him. With Marvollo even.

If felt different. A game almost, although the rules she wasn't clear on yet. Nor the prize.

Just to spite him, not at all to escape such a gauze, Harry pulled out her phone ready to ignore him for the rest of the journey to whatever mystical art shop he was taking her to. Her companion sensing the change also drawing his own mobile out. No doubt either contacting one of his various 'minions' or browsing the political scene. Harry couldn't think of anything worse.

A message from Ron glowing on her screen caught her attention first. She did woefully realise she must introduce the pair at some point, either that or risk the duo meeting in some awkward arrangement. She loved Ron, truly, but when it came to new males appearing in their social group he seemed to become the embodiment of territorial Alpha male.

 

Draco had been the victim of a sudden upheaval on what was meant to be a pleasant paddle boating trip on a rare excursion to the coast on his first social outing with Ron and the rest of her friends. Not sure on how a semi serious attempt at drowning constituted as a mark of friendship but the two now had a tentative, yet snarky bromance of sorts. Harry liked to think of it as mutual love/hate relationship for the others hair if the insults thrown around were any indication.

Men and their petty dominance displays.

Again she loved Ron and his self-assumed role of big brother (never mind they were the same age) but Harry was a big girl. She could quite happily kick to the curb any male suitors she deemed below the bar. Not that Harry had any male suitors to start with so she didn't see Ron's worry. If she wasn't half covered in whatever art concoction she was using, oils stained everything and everywhere. Then she was normally in some mismatched fluffy loungewear that could make anyone's eyeballs bleed. Yes, Harry was the pinnacle of a homing beacon for all single man.

Thinking back to a potential meeting between Ron and Marvollo though. She got the distinct feeling that Ron might be the one so cowed this time.

Marvollo didn't look like the casual swimmer type.

 

Looking back at the flashing message icon she could help the almost quizzical double take at her best friend's message.

"Marvollo…. "

She received a non-committal hum from her right to her low tone.

"Was there anyone strange hanging around the flat when you were there, only I've had a message from Ron?"

Smiles like the one she received in response, should be made illegal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Poor Ron...
> 
> As always thoughts and feedback are much appreciated. I Beta this myself as well so any errors be kind please!
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	3. All Work, Some Play...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little work, a little play, why does it always end with Tuesdays?

"I see Cerberus has returned"

Long since getting over the rather blunt attitude Luna carried, Harry merely hummed at the blonde behind her currently reading over Mr Karkaroffs desk papers. Harry herself sorting through the various office bins she had gathered in the centre of the room.

Honestly why people were incapable of deciphering what was recycling and what was paper recycling was beyond her. Never mind the fact that what she currently was holding was a banana skin.

"Less snooping and more polishing Luna and yes Marvollo is back"

Harry heard the sound of paper being shuffled behind her and the tell-tale sound of a spray nozzle as Luna followed her direction. Harry honestly loved Luna, she was the female best friend Harry never knew she could have. Others might see her as ditzy, the way she floated about without no care of the world around her, honest to a painful degree and never dawdling bar her occasional riddles. Harry secretly thought Luna took delight in making people run round after her instead of giving them straight details. They were all pawns to Lunas amusement. Harry just held a slightly higher position. A bishop maybe, she hoped anyway.

"Will he be picking you up as well as escorting?" A puff of air by her ear made Harry jerk round as the blonde drew back giggling at her discomfort.

"No he will not, I am not a damsel, besides I have you to walk to the tube station with"

"Shame, I rather think Marvollo is desperate by now to pick you up"

Narrowing her eyes and throwing a scrunched up bit of paper at the girl, Harry pointed back to the desks.

"Hardy Hah, polish!

Luna, holding her hands up in mock surrender, swiftly turned back to her previous task. Don't think Harry didn't note the smug little grin she wore, Luna wasn't even trying to hide it as she broke out into a low whispered song.

Someone, somewhere, needed to hire Luna to sing nursey rhymes, her voice was beautiful. An odd contrast of low and light that both baffled yet delighted the soul. It was Luna through and through.

With Lunas light crooning in the background, work seemed to move quite swiftly after that. Little bits of conversation thrown between the two girls as they zoomed around the large open plan office space. Harry asking after Neville as she hadn't seen him in a little while and if a wedding date had been set yet, Luna responding in turn that she was waiting for the right alignment of Neptune otherwise she was guaranteed a rainy wedding day. Harry had learnt not to question.

While helping Harry carry the various rubbish bags down the street skip below, Luna further pried into Marvollo's appearance to which she calmly explained the afternoon's proceedings and showed her the odd glass pot of red paint she had been after. Immediately promising Luna the glass pot once she was finished.

Apparently the glass would make an excellent light fixture amongst her other trinkets. Harry personally had a bedside lampshade that Luna had created from various seashells and smooth glass that she had scavenged on a romantic weekend getaway with Neville. Luna was the queen of upcycling in Harry's book and everything she touched seemed to evoke drool like envy from everyone. Harry had the scarred memory of fending off harpies from her new shade while transporting it home. Turns out the free newspapers on the tube came in handy when rolled and used as a baton.

Despite this though, Luna was happy to work her various part time jobs, do her small upcycling projects on the side and generally live a very low key life. It baffled Harry when she could be the toast of design in London but then seeing her so very happy with her gardener fiancé. Harry could understand. To find that little piece of heaven amongst a city striving to undercut everyone. Harry could understand and envy her a little if honest.

"I'll rock, moon, scissors you for the men's bathroom Harry"

Pulling herself away from the role of bin liners, Harry turned an unimpressed eye on her friend.

Luna always won the slightly modded game to decide the ill-fated task of the men's bathroom. Harry had long stopped falling for the trick but every time Luna still liked to jest a game. Throwing a pair of marigolds at the smirking blonde, Harry donned her own with a snap at the wrist.

"To battle, together"

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"You're certain this is the right address"

He could throw all the unimpressive eyebrow raises at her, as he pleased. The building looked condemned. If it wasn't then someone should. The little sign above the door, marking the shop as Ollivanders if you could squint past the peeling letters, looked one small gust away from snapping its flimsy chain. If she died she was haunting him no question.

"I can assure you that we are in the right place, you of all people should know not to judge by appearances"

The jingle of the bell above the shop door drew Harry's attention as they walked in. She didn't realise those even still existed. Then again by the state of dust, at least they could track the way they came in. Items of various artistic nature lay scattered and balanced around the room. Canvases, easels, was that a cement mixer?

Amongst the scattered collaboration of newspaper and box stuffing, Harry spotted a small brass bell, a tin of what she hoped wasn't cash, haphazardly languishing on the counter next to it. For such an oddity of a shop, Harry was not surprised by the lack of tech but even so to leave something like that out unsupervised. Well.

"I doubt theft is something they really worry about, now if you would.."

How he always managed to read what she was thinking Harry would never know, Marvollo simply gestured for her to ring the bell.

"I feel I might catch plague if I ring that"

Nevertheless ring the bell she did, barely a moment later and a speckled man of wispy grey hair appeared as if magically from beneath the counter.

"Tom my boy, it's been a while" Ok she had rung the bell, a little rude to immediately address the male figure in the room first. Dark, brooding figure that it is by use of his actually first name but still.

"Oh this must be Harriett, a pleasure to finally meet you, let me guess, let me guess…"

Who was Harry to question the man currently circling her like a hawk, the crazed man who apparently knew her name and wasn't such a random stop as Marvollo had first implied.

"..yes I know exactly what one you're going to need"

Without so much as a 'why' or 'what' she might be needing, the man took off back behind the counter and proceed to sweep the entirety of its contents onto the floor, cash tin included. Amongst the now ringing in her ears from clanging change, Harry could only watch in horror as box after box started to mount the surface top. The occasional curse muttered from behind the increasingly swaying mound as occasional a box lid came spinning round causing both her and Marvollo to duck.

"Should we, you know… intervene?"

Not sure if it was more for them or the clearly crazed store owner. Harry went to move forward but a quick hand on her shoulder stopped her.

"Leave him be, its best to not fight him."

With that Marvollo used the hand on her shoulder to turn her to a dusty chaise lounge tucked against the wall. Gesturing with an 'are you kidding look' at the state of the piece of furniture and where he wanted her to sit, Harry waited and stared at Marvollo.

With a put about sigh, Marvollo removed his jacket and threw it on the dusty chaise. Harry taking great delight in plopping down upon it, taking extra care to maintain eye contact as she wiggled slowly and with purpose.

It was worth the glare and subsequent murmuring of "brat.." even if he did budge her over when he joined her and made her half clamber in his lap so they could both share the jacket.

Neither noticed the smile directed their way from behind the counter.

 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Putting thoughts of earlier aside Harry could at least be grateful that she had the paint she needed even if the means of getting it had been… odd to say the least.

Watching Luna as she slowly slopped soap mixture over the floor, making her way further towards the stairwell and their jumble of things by the door. Harry couldn't help but snort at the absurdity of what had become their finishing routine.

Once the bucket was discarded and Luna stood facing her, Harry nodded her consent as Luna hit the play button on her phone, the small tinny speakers crackling to life next to the spattering of rags underneath Lunas feet matching the similar ones under Harrys.

"Come to me my blonde angel"

Mimicking all the soppy teen royalty flicks she had ever seen and flicking her fingers in Luna's direct. Harry couldn't help but giggle as Luna took a running spin towards the floor to her. Landing roughly in Harrys outstretched arms.

"Whisk me away my princess"

They danced. Rags beneath their feet they swept across the floor, hands clasped tightly together as each took turns in twirling the other or dipping them low. Finding that slim balance between falling and sliding to propel them fully round the office space as the jovial music bounced round contrasting the squeaks and thumps. The floor sparkling beneath them as with the crescendo of the songs peak, Harry half knelt as Luna shuffled her feet to create more momentum as she leapt upwards into the lift.

Only for Harrys legs to give out in the catch, causing them both to slip and land in a ceremonious puddle of limbs and damp soap sudded cloths.

"Well if that's not a clock strikes midnight effect in the happening, I don't know what is" Feeling the damp starting to seep into her hair, Harry offered Luna a tentive hand as they helped each other back their feet.

"One day Neville is going to ask me how I get these bruises and our ill-fated love affair will be discovered"

Lunas soft laugh brought a smile to Harrys. Already seeing the put about expression on Neville's face. More so at Luna hurting herself in a stunt that no doubt Harry would get the blame for. Being the Di Vinci of bad ideas was a hard mantle to be saddled with.

Harry almost felt a little scared at the notion of Lunas finance being mad with her. The man was a tall, smart, well-built package warmly snuggled in a variety of woollen jumpers, most knitted by Luna herself (honestly why were some people so blessed), who had the tenacity to babble nervously in social situations. So always.

Lunas 'lamb' as she dreamily referred to him as however had a deeper dark side. Honestly it was amazing what a good knit job could hide.

Something she had only witnessed once when a man had gotten a little grabby on a night out with Luna. One minute a grubby hand was travelling too far south, stale breath ghosting an ear as the lone tone of a text message sounded in the background. The man had glanced down in annoyance at the tone, the next thing said hand and the body connected to it were gone from the Luna's side. Leaving Neville to help Harry console a tear ridden Luna. Why the man had scampered at the mere sight of a message, Harry would never know, but she would carry the emotionless eyes that Neville has worn and the sight of a phone help tightly in his hands with her always.

Harry sometimes suspected if Neville was the simple Gardiner that Luna portrayed him as. A man with five greenhouses was obviously hiding something in Harry's books. Especially considering the value of such land in London.

"Harry dear heart, Neville would simply laugh, no need to look so worried, he knows you're special to me"  
Sure no need to worry if your name is Luna and your heart is made of pure sunshine.

Neville did however always greet her fondly when he occasionally picked Luna up from their night work. Always had time for her at their friends numerous social meet ups, always going out of his way to make sure she was doing ok. There was also the small group chat the three of them shared away from Harrys other friends in which they spoke daily. Plus that one comical time she and Luna had ended up drunk of their asses and incarcerated purely by accident after joining a non-approved rally group on the Commons Green. Something about protesting for elf freedom? Harry didn't know ok.

All Harry remembered from that hazy night was Luna trying to knock her out with a picket sign as she attempted to swing it, a rather fetching blue feather boa, said boa being wrapped around an attending police officer and then a rather queasy ride in a police car. Also maybe a human pyramid that somehow she got nominated to top.

Harry had forfeited her right to phone call at the station, after realising that a) Marvollo was out of the country and b) she couldn't string together any on else's number. Therefore Luna had called Neville, who bless his heart not only cleared up the whole misunderstanding that 'no they weren't part of a new age protest cult they were just drunk morons' whilst also getting all charges dropped for them both. No the star had also brought them both a change of shoes, heavens bless flats, and even stopped off for a sunrise takeaway pick up before taking them back to his and Lunas house. Apparently Harry wasn't to be trusted on her own whilst drunk and un supervised seeing as Ron was out of town visiting family, Neville was a smart man.

Surprisingly since then Harry and Luna had been lumbered with chaperones. Kill joys the lot of them. Harry had tried explain her woes to Marvollo about being treated like a baby instead of the women she was. He had simply snorted at her and proceeded to show her a video of her at the top of a very shaky pyramid on the common green which apparently Luna had filmed and sent to him. So the plan of Marvollo never finding out had failed. Miserably failed. So much so that Marvollo had insisted on having Neville's number just in case she decided to partake in any other acrobatics whilst he was away in future.

Killjoys!

With Luna locking up behind her, Harry gathered the cloths and shoved them into a plastic bag she carried for this such occasion to be washed at her flat later. Then falling into step with Luna, the girls linked arms as they navigated the street lit side street to the nearest tube stop.

"So what did you want me to give to Ron by the way?"

Recalling the early conversation the girls had, had whilst cleaning the men's bathroom. Harry remembered Luna mentioning a necklace that she had procured for Ron.

"I believe it will solve all his problems, but Ron aside, you never told me about dinner with Marvollo"

Smacking Luna with the plastic bag was purely self-defence at this point.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Allow me to thank you for showing some restraint" 

Although clearly of quality, the small Italian restaurant Marvollo had picked was clearly a more casual environment. Harry had long learnt to tell by the cutlery placement how high end a place could be considered and what mannerisms were passable. The simple one knife and fork setup was enough to make her feel at ease in her scuffed boots and jeans when compared to some of the high end black tie dining establishments he had dragged her to.

Harry said dragged.

Really the food was always amazing so by now the protests were more half-hearted at best and when the menu came without a price, well who was she to look a gift horse in the mouth. Besides he normally had the decency to pre-warn her before. Normally.

On two such occasions he had appeared at her door with a word, thrown some gown at her (they scarily seemed to always fit) and spirited her away before even a simple hello could be exchanged.

Marvollo hated to dine with self-dubbed 'idiots' by himself. Apparently she made them at least tolerable. Harry just marvelled at Marvollo's gull. That and the fact she knew he drew immense pleasure at her fumbling through polite, society small talk.

"Your comfort levels were considered" was all the snarky git came back with, head already perusing her over the top of his menu. No doubt already haven chosen while she was lost in though.

"So kooky old art man, should I be worried that he knew my name or-"

"Ollivander- always with the emphasis with Marvollo -is a very old acquaintance, eccentric yes, but a great procurer of, well oddities. He sourced me a simply divine 17th Century statue for the French ambassador's birthday last year"

Because of course that's what any person really wants for their birthday.

"-and he knew my name because? Wait how much did that even cost?"

"It is of no consequence, connections are the foundation on which we live after all. Now less gawping and choose something unless you want me to pick for you."

Always one to change the subject when money arose, Marvollo almost shooingly gestured her back to the menu. She didn't know if it was simply to save face for her which would almost be touching, you know, if it wasn't Marvollo. But then he never seemingly bragged or was once for flaunting his obvious wealth in comparison to her very humble, more like meagre, living standards.

"Also try to avoid garlic, or we might have a minor gas epidemic. I'm thinking for everyone sake."

She was 100% getting garlic bread now just to spite him.

Harry was going to breathe all over him.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"WHAT IS HAPPENING"

Ron jolted from his position on the sofa, he had meant to stay awake until Harry had gotten home from work. It would seem he had failed, groaning as he removed his face from the floor, he glanced over to the flat hallway where he met the wide eyed glare of said flat mate. Said flat mate now hung like a marionette amongst a tangle of invisible wire thread.

"Oh hey mate, funny thi-

"You booby trapped the hallway" Ok that was calm tone, Ron could reason with Harry if she was calm. Maybe subdue the beast before it could erupt. Hopefully stop the neighbours from pounding on the door again. Flippin Flat 14.

"WHY HAVE YOU BOOBY TRAPPED THEHALLWAY"

Too late it would seem. Somehow Ron could see this being a long night.

What were Tuesdays?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: *tries to catch floating Luna*
> 
> Me: You will be written whether you want to or not
> 
> Luna: I'm a free spirit, you can't tie me down
> 
> Me: Right…
> 
> Me: *Gets butterfly net*
> 
> Luna: *Phases through net*
> 
> Me: …. what?
> 
> Side Note, the cleaning method of polishing/ mopping your floors with old clothes worn as shoes. Yup totally 100% tried and tested by yours truly. DO NOT DO IT!
> 
> Please leave a comment and review x

**Author's Note:**

> AN: Well here it is, the first thing I have written in years, be gentle my readers, be gentle.
> 
> I do have a vague plan on where this might go, so If you want to be part of the journey, climb aboard.
> 
> Please leave a comment and review, I would love some feedback!
> 
> x


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